A Game Of Chance
by FlytheBlackFlag
Summary: As the blank edges of the map are being filled in, a secret begins to unfold. Pirates and Military men alike are risking their lives for a piece of the treasure and James Norrington unwillingly enters in a game of chance with a very unlikely person.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything…it's all Disney's…L

An- Hello all! I'm just a lurker in the POTC Fanfiction section, and figured I'd give it a whirl. If you didn't guess, this is a Norrington/OC story. I appreciate feedback!

Prologue

._Three Days Earlier._

Port Royal, or should I say the law-abiding, working denizens of Port Royal, had been asleep for a good while when footsteps echoed between two buildings in the dark. The boots, leather and quite worn out from the many days of wear, crept slowly to it's destination.

The owner of the shoes gulped in the darkness, clutching the velvet purse in his hands. His fingers were white and sore from fiddling with the fabric, but his anxiety took it's toll on him. The man gulped once more and looked over his shoulder in paranoia.

He did, of course, have in his possession a very coveted item.

The footsteps died down as the man stopped in an even darker corner of the alleyway. He was invisible to any person that would walk by, if there were any awake.

Only a few people, all untrustworthy, were awake.

And one of them happened to see exactly where the man went into hiding. Another pair of boots joined the paranoid man, startling him, making his mouth open wide enough for a yelp to come out. His breath was caught by a hand clamping over his mouth.

The person was dark, their face hidden by the hood they wore. "I certainly hope, for your sake, that you have retrieved what I requested?"

The hand dropped to allow the quivering fellow to respond. He held out the red purse, his hands shaking as he did so. "I-I-I did, as you asked…but, it was awfully dangerous, risking me neck like I did…I…wish to triple my price."

The man, despite the lack of confidence in his stammering, was rash. Any thief would, of course, act as he did when this much money was on the line. The hooded man smirked in the dark and dipped his hand into a pocket. He pulled out a sack as well, thrusting it forward.

They greedily exchanged prizes, one digging right into the sack, while the other stood calm. A slight giggle escaped the man's mouth as he tried to get to his earnings. However, no gold, no jewels, and no shillings met his eager gaze. He frowned, looking back up at the hooded figure.

All he got was a pistol pointed at his heart. The man dodged, the trigger was pulled and both men stumbled back. His hand reached out, clutching the velvet purse in the grasp of the latter man. They pulled at it, one bleeding profusely from the ribs, the other in terrible need of escape.

And yet, as the purse ripped open sending the feather light strip of paper fluttering to the cobblestone beneath their feet, both men stared at it in anticipation.

Two hands snatched forward, pulling at the paper in opposite directions. It ripped down the middle as another shot was fired.

"WHO'S THERE!" A voice shouted from the opening of the alleyway. A new set of footsteps could be heard hurrying down to where the commotion took place. The guard held his lantern over to the heap on the ground, gasping at the sight of two bullet holes gaping from the man's chest.

He was grinning, despite the blood that was pooling around his bottom lip. "Dear God in Heaven! I'll bring assistance." The guard hurried out into the opening, shouting at anyone who could hear. "I need help! ANYBODY!"

It would seem to me, at this point, that any rational thinking person would flee the scene of a crime. But, that ripped down the middle slip of paper was just too valuable, as I said earlier.

As silently as I could be, I dropped from my hiding place and looked at the man bleeding to death. He still grinned like a fool at the paper in his hands. It was stained red in the corner, and a few drops of splattered blood marred it's surface.

But, it wasn't the cleanliness of the desired object that made me covet it. I took hold of the strip of paper, looking deeply into the face of the man who still held it tight. He was dead already, but the look of joy stayed on his face.

His fingers were like a vice.

I searched the man's person quickly, knowing the guard would be rushing back any minute to check on the fellow. But, alas, I found the small, handy dagger. The man already had two holes in his body, what would a few missing fingers hurt? Besides, he was dead.

"Get away from there!" The guard rushed down the alleyway just as the last strip of skin was sliced away from the paper. I ran, not away, but straight into the guard. His musket was tilted up and fired into the sky, making a scatter of bird fly from their nightly resting place.

"HEY! WAIT!" It was no use, shouting at me like that. Would any man stop and actually give in at a simple 'hey, wait'? I highly doubt it.

Still, the silly guard with his probably silly ambitions of gaining status by chasing me down, kept close at my heels. At least while running, he had no time to reload his musket with another shot. We turned a corner, both of us slamming right into a familiar hooded figure.

I gasped, shoving the ripped piece of paper into my sash. The guard was on the ground, moaning confusedly. "You have what belongs to me." The man in the hood growled. I shook my head, stepping back over the guard who fell.

"Finders keepers. You left it. It's mine now."

"Wha's all the commotion about!" A man shouted, followed by angry, alarmed voices. Some woman screeched, obviously having just found the bloody body of the man in the alleyway. Both I and the man in the hood stared at each other. I blinked, knowing full and well I was risking my life, everything, for a scrap of paper.

It was worth it.

"DOWN HERE! I'VE GOT THE ONE WHO DID--" The guard's chin was immediately kicked by the man before me. He turned, glancing over his shoulder before fleeing. "I will get it back."

"You can have it back…when I see you again in hell."

We went our separate ways, and I made sure, until I could flee from Port Royal all together, that I would avoid any confrontations with a man in a hood.

_March 3rd, the 1725th year of our Lord._

"Oh no! It's such a scandal for our fine Port Royal. A murder, in our very streets while we were asleep. It's too much for me…"

I observed the woman as she fanned herself reverently. It was as if she had no idea so much corruption was right under her nose until it became the hottest gossip among town. I bit my cheek and looked out the window, staring into the dark, storm clouds that approached.

My fingers settled on the inside of my sleeve. I could feel the little slip of paper's torn edges along side the lacing of my dress. It made me cringe and hold back a grin at the same time.

It was odd, knowing I had what every pirate wanted, what every thief would kill for. I could, and most likely would be killed for it.

Wetting my lips, I glanced upward through my shade of eyelashes, letting my gaze settle on the man before us. He was sipping his brandy from his glass, swirling the bottom of the contents. The cigar he smoked from was laid, neglected on his desk in the ash tray.

I stared at the smoldering end, my nose wrinkling at it's smell. I shifted in my seat, wishing to ask who the man even was. But, I knew my place, and my mother would most definitely scold me for speaking out of turn.

She smiled at me, as if knowing I was begging to ask my demanding questions. "Admiral Blackwell, I must inquire…if it isn't too bold."

The admiral nodded, giving her permission to ask her questions. "The man, the one who was…was…"

"Murdered?" I asked before I could stop myself. At the sharp look from my mother, I lowered my head, keeping my fingers against the palm of my hand, feeling the edges of the paper in my possession.

My mother scowled at me for my intrusion, making me duck my head. Her thin lips pursed on her face. "Yes…him. Who was he?"

"Didn't identify him. No would could recognize him, no one had ever seen him before. Must be a scoundrel who crossed paths with the wrong person." The admiral took another sip of his brandy, not finishing it, but set it down on the table anyway. My eyes studied the brown, still wavering liquid.

"Perhaps." My voice was weak and timid, just how I was suppose to sound. "He has a family...and he only made a wrong decision that cost him his life."

Admiral Blackwell 'hmmed' at my statement and clasped his hands behind his back. "Mrs. Hayes, your daughter seems to have a plausible statement. You've definitely did an excellent job in raising her to think logically and…" He blinked, clearing his throat as he trailed off.

What he said was in no means a compliment. A woman in my status shouldn't be logical, or taught to speak out of her place. I bit my lip and narrowed my eyes out the window at the steady drop of fat rain drops as they pelted the windowsill.

A knock at the door made us all turn to see the servant bow to the admiral. "A Commodore Norrington to see you sir."

Admiral Blackwell nodded once and turned to us, bowing his head. "My ladies, if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to. Mr. Meyers will show you out when you're finished with your tea."

"I just could not believe you spoke so freely to Admiral Blackwell. He invites us over, and of course it turns to the latest gossip, but that gives you no right to…"

"Speak? Mother it wasn't as if I insulted the man. I want to know who he was just like you wanted to know."

"Yes but…it's different for me."

I narrowed my eyes, sliding an annoyed look to the woman. She was shaking her head, muttering complaints under her breath as she tugged her white gloves on her fingers. We both lurched back as the carriage started down the path.

We passed Admiral Blackwell's house, going into the city. People were scarce since the murder, scared to step out of their houses since the murderer was still at large. I blinked, realizing how strange the circumstances are.

That I was probably the only person who knew exactly what happened, but because of my age, gender, status, no one would pay any heed to what I had to say. Who would believe me anyway?

I touched the paper against my wrist, pursing my lips as my mind reeled over ideas. I knew what I had to do; I had to get off this island, onto a ship, heading to where ever I needed to go.

"And to think, we were rushed out as the Commodore was coming to speak to Admiral Blackwell. It may very well be your outburst that prompted the admiral to send us away so quickly."

"Commodore Norrington…Isn't he the one who the scandal was all about a year ago?" I turned toward my mother as she sighed, shaking her head gently.

"Yes, it was all a misunderstanding, though. He was granted clemency and repositioned as Commodore. With good reason too." My mother inclined her golden head, dropping her gaze to me. A smirk was playing at her lips and I knew exactly where she was going. "He's a very fine man, Wilhelmina."

"Is he? I haven't noticed." My eyes left her face to stare out the carriage window. I truly hadn't noticed the commodore since he returned to Port Royal. But, the scandal had been about one thing in particular: Pirates.

Commodore Norrington had a familiarity with pirates, which meant, he was just the man I need to speak to.

AN- Ok, thank you for reading, and don't forget to leave a review .. Muah.


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